Before leaving for the North End, Bill wrote a letter to Shawei, briefly introducing the situation of Lao Wei, hoping that he could contact a reliable factory to help him build a dream steam car.

There is also Barclays Trust Bank, who wants to apply for a loan in Lao Wei's name and fill in Sha Wei as the guarantor of the loan.

Using the bank's money to do business and enjoying life with his own money is a habit that Bill has developed many years ago.

He also deliberately disguised himself to make sure that he would not be easily recognized before walking out of the department store.

Heading north from Brittus Central Street, the road is becoming more and more desolate, with no greenery or ornamentation other than a few well-grown pine trees.

A little further ahead, you will see Glorious Street, the line that divides the rest of Brittus from the old town to the north.

The occasional ragged pedestrian on Glory Street walking out of the North End didn't pay much attention when they saw Bill, paying more attention to the cardboard shells or bins on the side of the road and rummaging for anything that could be recycled.

Rather than being the old town of Brittus, the North End is more appropriately described as a ghetto.

On the north side of Glorious Street, there is a two-meter-high decorative fence with the glorious deeds of Norman heroes, so that the dilapidated scenery of the North District will not affect the appearance of the capital.

However, these Norman heroes were painted with paint on their faces, and they did not see how glorious and great they were, but rather very funny.

Bill didn't stop in front of the decorative wall, he just walked around the decorative wall and walked into the entrance with a mess of steel wire mesh doors, and the picture was completely different from that of Brittus.

It's a vibrant scene in an old abandoned factory.

There was a faint smell of garbage heaps in the air, and the old building next to the exit of the North District was the police office, but at the moment the door of the office was closed, and there seemed to be no police on duty.

In front of a small brick house opposite the police office, there is a toll booth that looks like both water and gas bills can be paid here, but the door of the toll booth is also closed.

Walk along the grey-faced streets into the depths of the North End, where rows of dilapidated wooden houses are lined with potholed dirt floors in front of them, mixed with garbage and weeds.

There are no gas street lights and smooth streets, and there are dilapidated buildings everywhere, with patched rags hanging from clotheslines, and blue workers' uniforms that have been washed many times and turned white.

In front of each house is a lacquer bucket, which seems to be used to store rainwater.

According to Lao Wei, many of the people living in the North District are workers from the surrounding factories, and they do not have to go through the city to work every day, and there are special roads on the north side that lead to the heavy and light industrial areas on the outskirts of Brittus.

Bill could also see dirty men passing by in ripped dark red sweaters and brown-black trousers, all swarthy and covered in oil.

The pants were long and didn't fit, maybe the pants were originally brown, but they hadn't been washed for a long time and were pickled black by the dust.

Another man with a toolbox hurried by, and when Wei saw that Bill just felt familiar, he didn't say anything more, and walked straight out of the North District and disappeared into the street.

"It seems that the disguise is very successful, and Lao Wei doesn't even recognize me. ”

Bill looked at the sign at the street corner that was randomly planted on the ground with rotten wooden boards, the words on which had long since been corroded by the rain.

According to the information Bill obtained, in addition to Mouse Street, where Lao Wei lives, there are three other streets here, namely Flea Street, Fly Street, and Bed Bug Street.

A woman in rags passed by with a wooden barrel, her face dull and her hair disheveled, and poured water from the lacquered bucket at the door into the bucket.

It only rained last night, and there was sludge and standing water everywhere.

Soon to her.

"Excuse me, but how do I get to Flea Street?"

"Sir, you haven't been to us before, just follow this road and go straight in, and it will take you about ten minutes. ”

The woman looked up and responded enthusiastically, and although she didn't have any makeup on her face, the way she smiled was just as moving.

"Thank you. ”

Walking in the direction of the woman, the air quality has plummeted, and although there are still many people living here, Bill feels that the North District is a large garbage dump, so the government is too lazy to manage this area.

Compared to the clean but chilly rest of Brittus, it's in a class of its own.

There are many residents on Flea Street, and you can also see many itinerant vendors enthusiastically selling.

Although the vegetables here are a little problematic and the fruits are rotten, presumably the food that was sent to Brittus is shipped here, but this does not prevent the women from choosing to take home and make delicious applesauce.

The little ones were playing and frolicking on the side of the street in ill-fitting loose clothes, smiling no different from seeing small children in expensive clothes in the central block.

And there are also many quirky stalls on Flea Street, which are everywhere, selling 'broken ******* such as rusty screws, chipped plates and bowls, guitars with broken strings, and tattered clothes that can't be washed with sulfur soap.

In front of these stalls is also a wooden board with a carbon rod written on what the stall owner needs, indicating that anything on the stall can be exchanged.

Although it seems that the residents of the North District are having a very difficult time, they still have kind and kind smiles on their faces.

Pedestrians greeted each other incessantly, and when a child accidentally fell, passers-by immediately picked him up and slapped the dirt off his body.

Bill even saw a sparrow with a broken leg on the stall, and a wooden sign stating why the sparrow was placed here.

"I picked it up in front of my house, it was hurt, and I asked for some medicine. 」

The chaotic street suddenly gave Bill a strange feeling, and it was full of warmth, as if it were out of step with this era of increasing mechanization.

There is also a small clinic next to Flea Street, with a sign at the door that reads:

"Every weekday from 9 a.m. to 12 p.m., free diagnostics and under-priced drugs are provided to residents in the North District."

A doctor in a white coat walked out of the clinic, wearing a mask and black-rimmed glasses, and personally escorted an injured worker away.

Bill didn't care, just when the doctor stood in front of the clinic and took off his mask at will......

He turned around in an instant, pretending to inspect the items on the stall, but his eyes kept glancing back.

"Doctor Brig!"

"How could that guy be here?"

The doctor did not notice the unusual behavior of a man on Flea Street, he turned around and went back to the clinic, and nothing happened.

Only Bill was strange and bored.

"That kind of man with a bad personality runs a rescue clinic in a place like the North End?"

"Heh, this is probably the most boring joke of the year. 」